


we mark this occasion

by Snickfic



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anniversary, Boston Bruins, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic
Summary: “There were at least twenty thousand people living in Copán at one point,” Patrice said. “It was occupied for more than two thousand years. Some of the ancient tombs still have remains in them.”Brad was looking at him now and not the phone, laughter in his eyes. “That’s a romantic getaway, for sure.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pantsoffdanceoff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantsoffdanceoff/gifts).



> I was so tickled to see someone requesting Bergy/Marchy. I couldn't quite manage a Valentine's Day treat, but I hope you enjoy this bit of anniversary fluff. <3
> 
> Set during/after the 2015-2016 season.

“What about this?” Patrice asked. He held the phone out to Brad on the other side of the hotel bed so that Brad could scroll through the photos of the ruins: bright green foliage, stone pillars with dramatically carved figures, stair-stepping Mayan pyramids. 

“It’s pretty, man,” Brad said after a moment’s due consideration.

“There were at least twenty thousand people living in Copán at one point,” Patrice said. “It was occupied for more than two thousand years. Some of the ancient tombs still have remains in them.”

Brad was looking at him now and not the phone, laughter in his eyes. “That’s a romantic getaway, for sure.” Somehow his hand had strayed from the phone to the waistband of Patrice’s slacks, not yet discarded. He thumbed absently back and forth across the edge.

Patrice stopped thinking about Copán.

\--

“It’s a wat,” Patrice said.

“A what?” Brad said, squinting. “A wat what?”

“This one’s built into the side of a hill. Parts of the temple are in a cave system that was already there. You climb five hundred and eight steps to reach it, and there are quotes carved into the steps, for meditation. And look at that view you’d have, out over the jungle.”

“So that’s what you want to do on our anniversary? Meditate?” Brad’s tone was teasing, but he looked a little concerned. 

“I guess that’s dumb, right?” Patrice said, putting away the phone.

“Hey, no.” Brad pressed closer into Patrice’s side. “You want to go look at some temples, it’s cool. Wherever you want to go, man. Here, show me again. Five hundred and eight steps?” He made a nosie of mock disgust. “You just want to sneak summer training into our vacation.”

\--

“Hey, Brad.”

“Mm,” Brad said. He had his breakfast sandwich in one hand and his phone in other, which he was scrolling through with his thumb. Any moment, Patrice was going to hit a bump, and greasy egg was going to fall on Brad’s slacks. Except they’d been driving in to the airport together for eight months now, and somehow all Brad’s slacks were still unscathed.

Patrice took too long to answer, and Brad looked up from his phone. “What’s up?”

“Oh, just. Is there somewhere you want to go?”

“Uh.”

“For our anniversary,” Patrice clarified. He didn’t know how it had taken him this long to ask.

“Oh, shit, I don’t know. Wherever you want to go, you know? I’ll like it if you’re there.” Brad said this easily, fearless in a way that still took Patrice’s breath away sometimes.

Patrice was still learning how to live up to it. Now, for example. “Okay, but is there somewhere _you_ want to go?”

Brad paused to give the question some real thought this time. “Not really? It’s like I said. Wherever you want is good. Normally after the season I just go home and chill – that hunting camp my family has, you know? But it’ll be cool to do something different.” Brad took another bite of his sandwich. Through egg and muffin, he mumbled, “It’s fine. I know you’ll pick somewhere cool.”

“I will,” Patrice said, conviction firming into a plan.

\--

He didn’t tell Brad where he bought tickets to. Brad tried to tease the secret out of him – with ribbing, with sex. Patrice held firm, even after a particularly thorough and spectacular blowjob that ended on Brad’s face.

“You have to tell me,” Brad said, after he’d gone for a rag and cleaned them both off. “I gotta know what clothes to pack.” He stretched out next to Patrice and cuddled close.

“I’ll pack for you,” Patrice said.

“Hah,” Brad said sleepily. “You gotta put something hot in there. I want to look hot for our anniversary.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything I can pack that will help with that,” Patrice said soberly. Brad woke up enough to pinch him in the ribs.

\--

The season ended. They missed a wild card spot by the thinnest possible margin, again. Last season, after their final game, Patrice and Brad had tripped and fallen into bed together, sad-drunk. Then they’d done it again after they sobered up, and again and again.

It had gone a long way towards improving Patrice’s perspective of the season.

\--

Patrice could only keep the secret so long. He handed Brad the boarding pass while they were in line at Logan security. “Don’t look,” Patrice said, but he knew it was a lost cause. Before they even got their passports inspected, he caught Brad peeking.

Brad didn’t say anything, though. He was quiet as they walked the concourse, past all the familiar shops. He was quiet while they waited at the gate and as they boarded. Finally, after the flight attendant had gone through the safety procedure spiel and the doors were shut, Brad leaned in close and said softly, “We’re going home? To Halifax?”

Sudden misgivings niggled at Patrice. “That was the plan. Is that okay? I already talked to your parents, so they know we’re coming.”

The furrow in Brad’s brow didn’t ease. “But you wanted to go someplace cool. Somewhere with a rich cultural history or whatever the fuck. Or something, you know. Romantic.” Brad said the word carefully, as if he didn’t quite trust it.

“You can show me your camp. Teach me how to bow hunt.”

“I know how you feel about Bambi,” Brad scoffed.

“Probably I won’t actually shoot anything,” Patrice allowed. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t really care where we went, as long as you liked it. I just wanted to be with you.” He ducked away from Brad’s round-eyed stare. 

Thank god first class was mostly empty today. The one kid across the aisle had her ear buds in.

“That’s—” Patrice’s gaze was drawn back to Brad, almost unwillingly. Brad said slowly, “That’s pretty fucking romantic.”

“Well.” Patrice’s cheeks went hot.

Brad beamed. “Happy anniversary to me. Wait’ll you see how hot I am in camo, dude.”

“I have no doubt,” Patrice said, and he didn’t.

[end]

**Author's Note:**

> Bergy is in fact a world traveler, and Marchy really does just want to tromp around in the woods, as related in [this gem](https://www.bostonglobe.com/sports/bruins/2016/12/26/bergeron-marchand-mismatched-but-very-effective-pairing/gWwWsuDI0CTq8XsJ7m9tjP/story.html) of an article. The article also features such highlights as describing them as husband and wife. It's a must-read.


End file.
